And he clearly hasn抰 fired me yet.
What does that mean? Is he a glutton for punishment or am I truly the butt of his bad jokes around here?
As soon as I sit down at my desk, Anna emails a few images for print ads she wants me to align with the copy in today抯 projects.
The first picture shows a groom running from the altar at full speed. The bride holds her skirts with both hands and chases after him. They抮e both smiling like they抮e high on helium.
Bad reminder of what I抦 doing here, of what this job really is…
I want to crawl under my desk and die.
I lived this scene.
Trust me, there was nothing cute about it.
Writing wedding copy梕ven for ridiculously good pay梞ust be punishment or vicious karma for some cardinal sin from a past life.
Maybe I really do have more in common with Edgar Allan than I realized.
Whatever. I抣l support the wedding industry because it抯 my job, but I抣l never buy into it.
I feel sorry for all the poor, blissfully ignorant souls who do.
The worst part is, I抦 blanking.
I have no clue how to write snappy copy for this image set.
Honestly, I wish I could forget images like these. The first thing that comes to mind is: Run, don抰 walk, away from the altar. RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN.
I scroll to the next image. The same model groom holds his bride against him. Her hands rest on his. Both of their rings are in the shot. A picture I never got to experience.
So lovely. So heartfelt. So vomit-worthy.
Why did I take this job again? Eliza did warn me.
I let out a slow, hissing breath.
Sure, I can blame Lincoln Burns for the long hours, late nights, and stupid coffee runs梕ven if I didn抰 have to agree to that last one梑ut he抯 not to blame for this.
It抯 not his fault that I have to hide hot, rebellious tears just looking at these stupid photos of an imaginary wedding I never had.
He抯 also not responsible for my new evening plans to cope with a pound of M&Ms after work.
I抎 say Jay is to blame梐nd he is梑ut the hard, grisly truth is there抯 one person responsible for the pain.
Me.
Because once I was naive. Once, I looked at ads like these, bursting with happy couples and happily ever afters, and I bought it hook, line, and sinker.
I swallowed a lie.
Never again.
For once, I have to live up to my new namesake.
Nevermore.
The whole team gets an email from Anna, telling us to report to the conference room for an evening meeting.
揇o you know what this meeting is about??I ask.
Cheryl, a friendly middle-aged woman, picks up her purse and slings it over her shoulder. 揘o, but we抮e about to find out.?
I grab my notepad and follow her into the meeting room, where Anna and a few other people are already waiting.
揜ed alert, people,?Anna says, leveling a stare at everyone. The bright crimson blouse she抯 sporting today adds emphasis to her words. 揙ur competition just dropped an ad today that抯 pretty close to what we created last week. We need a fresh concept like now.?
揟here are only so many ways to promote a wedding. Run it anyway,?Cheryl says with an annoyed click of her nails on the table.
揟his line is worth a fortune. We抮e not just phoning the pre-sale in. We need to stand out,?Anna says.
揥hat if we present the anti-bridezilla dress??I say, tapping my pen.
揂nti-bridezilla??Anna asks.
揗y hometown was known for weddings before it was known for big oil and weird murder mysteries.?
Everyone stares at me.
揝orry. Ignore that last part. My point is, the wedding industry definitely keeps us going. This big movie star, Ridge Barnet, even tied the knot of the century and had it all over the press a few years ago. There are several huge weddings in Dallas, North Dakota, every year. They range from hometown heroes to celebrities jetting in for a destination wedding. They all have one thing in common. The number one thing that makes any normal woman a bridezilla. The alterations aren抰 right or her form feels off. Something, something, disaster! But whatever the catastrophe, it抯 always the dress at the heart of it, right??
Anna rests her hand on her chin, a half smile slowly moving across her face.
揧択now, that抯 brilliant. Freaking out over little details never happens with a Haughty But Nice dress. Not when it抯 crafted by the best designers in the industry using only the finest materials.?
I nod.
揈xactly. Use a Haughty But Nice dress to soothe a fire-spitting bridezilla and caption it with something like, 'be a bride, not a dragon.' Or maybe 'Keep calm. Wear Haughty But Nice and carry on.'?
揑 love it!?Anna says, scrunching up her nose.
The murmur around the table grows, buzzing with ideas and laughs.
Thank God.
I抎 much rather write copy about calming bridezillas than try to come up with a clever way to convince some poor girl she can keep a man around.
After all, the whole bridezilla thing acknowledges the fact that getting married isn抰 all sunshine and roses. It抯 one of the most stressful events a person goes through until the big梙opefully happy梔ay arrives.
揥e抣l need a fire-breathing groom too,?someone says from the back of the room. 揇on抰 forget we sell to brides and grooms alike.?
I know that voice.
It annoys me and never has anything pleasant to say.
When did he even come in? And why is he hellbent on making my life harder for the tenth time today?
I turn around and glare. I look right at him, but somehow he manages to see past me with this diplomatic smile for the team. Of course, they look at him like they抮e in the presence of a freaking rock star.
Asshat.
The royal purple vest under his jacket today draws attention to the broad cut of his chest and the color offsets his eyes.
Illegal. It should be against the law for a man to be this hot and also so heartless.
Also, I抎 much rather write bridezilla than some jerkwad who can抰 figure out he抯 afraid of commitment until his bride is waiting at the church. There抯 nothing cute about it.
It抯 sexist as hell, mean-spirited, and the fact that it抯 tolerated is ridiculous. I remember the last time I saw a wedding line advertising with a runaway bride…
Actually, I don抰。
I try very hard not to remember.
But it抯 Lincoln Burns?company. I抦 hardly in the mood to argue with him in front of his staff.
If I do, I抣l probably be called into his office for another lecture about work culture and how we need a truce and how I抦 being the bad gal for defending myself and blah, blah, blah.
I know.
I know I should just listen and keep my inner bitch in check.
揢h, I don抰 know about that, Mr. Burns,?a voice says nervously. 揟he bridezilla concept is cute and all because it takes a known idea to the next level. But groomzilla isn抰 a thing. It just doesn抰 work.?
揚oint taken. If the concept can抰 sell both lines, it抯 not a working concept,?Burns says, snapping his fingers.
I抦 a little surprised he actually took the feedback to heart.
揥ith all due respect, sir, why??Cheryl asks. I can tell they抮e not used to arguing with him, but I抦 glad they are. He keeps glancing my way like he抯 just waiting for me to come charging in.
No, bossman. Not this time.
揑t抯 normal for men抯 lines and women抯 to be marketed differently, isn抰 it??I say very neutrally.
For a second, his face sinks like he抯 disappointed.
揑 like a cohesive strategy. Something that抯 fun but immediately lets you know it抯 us. My mother always looks forward to the Match dot com commercials where the year 2020 and the devil meet up. Our content needs that zing, a relatable story people will look forward to,?he says through the laughter in the room.